Hero
by Leonais Frostwind
Summary: After living with the Dursleys for four years, Harry Potter is so badly abused that he wishes himself into a more nurturing environment. Where he ends up is Azeroth. How will Wizarding England react when their supposedly dead hero returns the son of Arthas Menethil? H/Hr and Arthas/Jaina pairings. Paladin!Ravenclaw! Harry. Weasley, Dursley, and Dumbledore smack down.


_This story is a response to my Menethil Honor Challenge, which can be found on DZ2's challenge forum. If you want the details, here they are:_

Harry Potter and Warcraft Crossover: Menethil Honor

Details:

While growing up with the Dursleys, Harry gets so badly abused that he wishes himself to a safer, more caring environment. He ends up teleporting to Lordaeron before the Third War, and is discovered by Prince Arthas Menethil. Arthas takes Harry in and raises him as his son. Then, Harry, Arthas, Jaina, and twenty-three others go through a portal that takes them to Earth. Once they arrive, Arthas and Jaina take the Defense Against the Dark Arts position after Dumbledore comes to find Harry. However, their arrival brings the Scourge and the Burning Legion to Earth, intensifying the struggle between the Light and Dark.

Required:

The story is AU starting before Hogwarts and Harry starts at third or fourth year.

Harry does not trust Dumbledore.

Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw Harry.

Hermione becomes Harry's first friend.

Ron, Ginny, Molly, Malfoy, Dumbledore, and Snape bashing.

Paladin Harry.

Manipulative Dumbledore.

Voldemort allying with the Scourge and/or Burning Legion.

Recommendations:

Harry teleporting himself at an early age (like four or five).

Arthas running diagnostic tests on Harry to see the extent of the damage done to him.

Jaina helping Arthas raise Harry (eventually have Arthas and Jaina marry).

Harry starting Hogwarts after returning to Earth.

Harry/Hermione; Harry/Daphne; Harry/Luna; Harry/Hermione/Luna; or Harry/Hermione/Daphne pairings.

Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff Hermione.

Light/Grey Harry.

Forbidden:

Harry/Ginny pairing.

Ron/Hermione pairing.

Hermione bashing.

Harry trusting Dumbledore.

Slytherin Harry.

Dark Harry.

Harry staying with the Dursleys.

_Arthas and Jaina splitting up._

_Disclaimer: As always, I don't own Harry Potter or Warcraft, I merely play with the worlds J.K. Rowling and Blizzard Entertainment have created. Enjoy reading and review._

_Introduction: Four years have passed since Lily and James Potter were killed by Lord Voldemort. Their son, Harry, has been sent to live with his Aunt Petunia, and her husband, Vernon Dursley._

_Warning: This chapter will have graphic descriptions of child abuse, torture and mature language. MAJOR DURSLEY BASHING INCOMING.  
_

_"Wish I was too dead to care.  
My self-affliction fades.  
Stones to throw at my creator.  
Masochists to which I cater.  
_

_You don't need to bother;  
I don't need to be.  
I'll keep slipping farther.  
But once I hold on,  
I won't let go 'til it bleeds."  
_

_-"Bother" by Stone Sour  
_

* * *

Prologue: Pain and Suffering

Pain.

This was all that a boy of only five years of age felt while he lay curled up in his cupboard under the stairs of Number Four Privet Drive. For reasons he could not explain, the young boy had accidentally set one of his cousin's favorite toys on fire after said cousin, Dudley, had spent the last five minutes hitting the young raven-haired boy with said toy. When the spoiled little brat went to his parents, the father, Vernon Dursley, beat the young child so badly that each and every movement or twitch caused him so much agony that he couldn't help but whimper from the pain. _Is this what happens to all kids who lose their parents? _the young boy thought to himself.

As far as the boy knew, he had no name. His "family" either called him "Boy" or "Freak", as well as refusing to tell him his real name. He was exactly four feet tall, which is a little taller than average for a five-year-old boy. However, his weight was only around thirty pounds, which was around the weight of an average three-year-old boy. Dudley Dursley, in contrast, weighed sixty-five pounds, which was grossly overweight for a boy his age.

But just before he could finally let sleep's embrace claim him, the boy heard his Aunt Petunia screaming for him to wake up outside his cupboard's door. Groaning both from the pain of his last beating and lack of sleep, he got dressed and exited his only "sanctuary".

Petunia Dursley was a middle-aged woman with a long neck and a face that would be comparable to a horse. Her blonde hair lay flat on her head and looked completely bland.

"Make breakfast boy, and don't burn anything, or I will cut you with this knife." Aunt Petunia threatened, brandishing a serrated bread knife in the boy's face.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." was the monotone reply from the boy.

The woman known as Aunt Petunia seemed to be in a good mood, since she didn't take the boy's reply as cheek.

However, that mood was doomed to be short, as her nephew struggled to cook breakfast for her whale of a husband and total pig of a son; he accidentally burnt one of the bacon strips on one side. Petunia quickly whacked the boy on the head with a metal spatula, internally enjoying breaking down the spawn of her freak sister and the boy's equally freakish father. The boy, for his part, carefully clamped down on the whimper that threatened to escape his lips. Unfortunately for him, his Aunt made sure to make the beginning of his day even worse. The groaning of the stairs alerted both mistress and slave (a more apt description of the boy's relationship with his aunt) to the arrival of Vernon Dursley in the kitchen.

Vernon Dursley is a large, beefy man who is in complete contrast of his wife. He had beady little eyes and so little neck it look like his head was fused to his torso. Giving his nephew a very nasty look to ensure the little freak knew he wasn't welcome in his house

"Morning Pet." Vernon said to his horse-faced wife before giving her a peck on the cheek.

"Morning dear," was Petunia's reply.

With that, Vernon set his massive girth down in a chair around the square table. The chair groaned under his enormous weight and his abnormally fat body spilled over the sides, sagging down nearly to the floor. After getting completely settled, Vernon began barking orders to his young nephew.

"BOY! HURRY UP AND SET THE BLOODY TABLE!"

Desperate not to anger his uncle with tardiness, the young boy rushed to set the table. Just as he finished, Dudley Dursley waddled his way onto a chair before father and son proceeded to practically inhale their breakfast.

Unfortunately, the child wasn't quite fast enough for his bloated pig of an uncle. With an agility that would have been thought impossible for someone his size, Vernon was out of his chair and had cuffed the boy round the back of his head before sitting back down.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SHIT! YOU BETTER LEARN TO BE QUICKER THAN THAT, YOU DISGUSTING FREAK!" Vernon roared, relishing further breaking this little freak down even more than he already was. When Dudley waddled down into the kitchen, he too joined in on the "freak's" torment. Then, to add insult to injury, Petunia grabbed the boy roughly by the scruff of his neck and threw him into his cupboard under the stairs.

The boy endured this kind of treatment from his relatives for three weeks before, if it was even possible, got worse.

Despite having learned to be as quick and efficient at the labor his relatives made him do, he was never good enough.

"Nobody wants you, little freak."

"Who cares about the spawn of worthless drunks who dumped you on their normal, hardworking relatives?"

"You're as worthless as your parents, FREAK!"

The verbal abuse continued like this, destroying whatever remained of the boy's non-existent self-esteem and self-worth. The malnutrition was finally taking its toll, as the chores became increasingly harder to complete for the ever-weakening child. This led to more physical abuse.

He couldn't make breakfast as fast anymore, so Aunt Petunia hit him on the head with a frying pan.

He could barely mow the lawn, Vernon whipped his back until he was bleeding heavily.

He accidentally burnt the fat on the pork the Dursleys ate for dinner, Dudley was allowed to hit his cousin with a heated poker.

The boy had hardly eaten, and what little he ate, he couldn't keep in his emaciated stomach. Petunia beat him with a wooden spoon until it broke because the boy didn't make it to the bathroom in time to retch, and dirtied her immaculate hardwood floor.

Then came the really nasty beatings.

Vernon had a bad day at work, he used his nephew as a punching bag, leaving the poor boy so badly bruised and broke his arms. Since nobody would pay to take the boy to the hospital and have his arm set, he did it himself. Depression, his one constant companion, worsened day after day while Dudley was pampered by his inhumane parents.

Finally, two weeks before his sixth birthday, the worst beating the boy had received to date occurred.

Aunt Petunia awoke her nephew at the usual time of six o'clock in the morning. Unfortunately, due to the last three weeks of abuse and neglect, the boy struggled to get out of his bed in his cupboard. Ignoring the fact that the boy was hurt, Aunt Petunia forcefully grabbed her nephew and dragged him to the stove.

_"Freak, if you don't behave or you fail even this menial task, I promise that there will be serious PAIN in your near future. We have taken you in out of the pure goodness of our hearts, and yet you still act like you're entitled to special treatment. Get it through that thick skull of yours that your ungratefulness will not burden my family much longer. We never wanted you, FREAK, now make breakfast before I tan your worthless hide." _Aunt Petunia hissed into her nephew's ear.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." mumbled the boy. Unfortunately, Aunt Petunia took his response as cheek, and promptly smacked him over the head.

"I expect this table to be set and breakfast done by the time I get your uncle and Dudley up and in here. If you prove to be too lazy, I will follow through on my earlier words. NOW GET TO WORK!" she screeched the last part at her nephew, which spurred him into action. _That will teach that old man better than to leave freak spawns on my doorstep. _Petunia thought gleefully as she went to wake her husband and son.

Struggling to complete his task in enough time to be done and quietly disappear while his relatives ate (or in the case of Vernon and Dudley, stuffed themselves with enough food to feed the entire population of the Soviet Union for six months apiece). Sadly, time was not on his side, and the boy's injuries compounded this problem, as by the time the Dursleys arrived for breakfast, the boy had only managed to set enough food for everyone to have one normal-sized helping, not the usual one or two helpings for Petunia and the rest for Vernon and Dudley. Seeing this, Vernon immediately looked upon the now-quivering boy that was his nephew.

"FREAK! WHAT PART OF YOUR AUNT'S SIMPLE INSTRUCTIONS DID NOT GET THROUGH TO THAT TINY BRAIN OF YOURS?! WE TAKE YOU IN, PUT A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD, AND CLOTHE YOUR UNGRATEFUL HIDE. AND YOU REPAY US BY TRYING TO STARVE US ALL?!"

As his Uncle's tirade wound down, the boy watched fearfully as the whale that was Vernon Dursley walked over to a drawer and withdrew a set of custom-made brass knuckles. Then, walking menacingly to the terrified boy, Vernon began punching his nephew with his knuckle-clad fists.

As the blows rained down, it took all of the boy's willpower not to cry out at his uncle's onslaught. After twenty minutes of straight pummeling, Vernon turned to Dudley, and in a gleeful tone, said,

"Dudders, do me a favor and get my studded belt? You know which one that is."

Dudley's eyes lit up maliciously as he went to collect his father's favorite mode of punishment for his freak of a cousin. Minutes later, Dudley returned with the requested belt. Taking the belt from his pig of a son, Vernon then began whipping his nephew. Despite his massive girth comprised mostly of fat, Vernon was able to whip his young nephew for a straight hour before tiring. Unfortunately for the boy, his torment was not over yet, as his Aunt took over punishment. Aunt Petunia walked over to the fireplace, and after getting a fire going in the fireplace, heated the cast-iron poker to the point that it glowed red-hot. Then, satisfied with the heat of the metal, she began the process of carving the word FREAK into her nephew's skin.

The poor boy who was being subjected to this torture was trying very hard to keep from making noise, crying, and staying conscious simultaneously. Unfortunately, he was only able to succeed on two counts: staying conscious and staying quiet. However, the tears were pouring out of his eyes as the bottled-up pain over the course of the last four years finally burst.

After six hours of merciless beating from all three Dursleys, Vernon had thrown the still-weeping boy into his cupboard hard enough to break several bones... again.

Curled up into the fetal position, the boy lay in the darkness of his cupboard. He was silently praying that he be taken away from this hell on earth, anywhere but here. Suddenly, with a flash of light, the five-year-old boy, known to everyone else but him as Harry James Potter, disappeared from Privet Drive.

In fact, nobody would hear from Harry for a decade, as he was no longer on Earth.

* * *

_Author's note: I always felt that Rowling didn't portray the Dursleys in a poor enough light. Despite describing them as the "worst sort of Muggles" she never went into great detail about Harry's life before Hogwarts. In this fic, I have deliberately demonized the Dursleys because, in my opinion, they were no better than the Nazis or the Russian overseers for the Gulag camps of Siberia. I sincerely apologize to anyone who is disturbed by this, but if it is truly that disturbing, then you shouldn't have read it in the first place.  
_

_Another thing, when I first started, I had said I didn't care if reviewers flamed my stories. However, due to flames having killed off such stories like _Hallowed Child _and _A Not So Golden Couple, _I have decided that I will not tolerate any flames. If you don't like my stories, either don't bother reading the story or WRITE YOUR OWN VERSION._


End file.
